


Sherlock Gets Rewarded for Breaking the Toilet.

by BloodSeiryu, Tindomerelhloni



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But Sherlock tops from the bottom quite well, Dirty Talk, I just have writers block, Johnlock - Freeform, Love Bites, M/M, Rather quickly written smut, Riding Crop, Sort of a punishment fic, Top John, but not really, i can do better, something written quick, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodSeiryu/pseuds/BloodSeiryu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tindomerelhloni/pseuds/Tindomerelhloni
Summary: Something written quick... but over a LONG period of time. (Because that makes sense) Blood and I started this via texts on our phone one day while bored.... and it kidna just SAT there for ages until we did something with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% unbetaed, unedited... just... pure raw "Writing" So, if you see a typo, just pretend it isn't there. Pretty please.

**Sherlock... Last night...** **  
** **Well, yeah it was perfect.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **May I ask which part you** **  
** **found most spectacular?** **  
** **-SH**

 

 **You. Yeah.... You.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **I found you to be quite** **  
** **spectacular as well. I** **  
** **think my favorite** **  
** **moment was waking up** **  
** **to you still next to me.** **  
** **-SH**

 

 **Can honestly say this** **  
** **is the first time I've split my** **  
** **lip open from kissing.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **Well I am sure me** **  
** **constantly biting it did** **  
** **not help the situation.** **  
** **-SH**

 

 **Certainly not. Clearly I'll** **  
** **have to make you pay** **  
** **for that tonight when** **  
** **I get home.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **We could always put my** **  
** **riding crop to good use,** **  
** **yes?** **  
** **-SH**

 

 **Don't tempt me Holmes.** **  
** **Or you won't  be able to** **  
** **sit down for a week.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **Oh look at you, getting** **  
** **me excited while I'm** **  
** **busy at Bart's. Such a** **  
** **bad man you are. Maybe** **  
** **you should be the one** **  
** **to get punished tonight.** **  
** **-SH**

 

 **You do realize, Sherlock,** **  
** **that I'll now have to** **  
** **punish you for that** **  
** **remark as well? What if I** **  
** **want you excited? What** **  
** **if I want you needy and** **  
** **wanting while out in** **  
** **public... A reminder of** **  
** **just what you're coming** **  
** **home too.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **Careful, Molly is mere** **  
** **feet away. Wouldn't want** **  
** **her getting any ideas** **  
** **would we?** **  
** **-SH**

 

 **Then be discrete. Or** **  
** **you'll simply be adding** **  
** **more fuel to my fire.** **  
** **-JW**

 

 **Maybe you should come  
** **here and show her who  
** **I belong too. Take me  
** **over the table or toss one  
** **off on my face.** **  
** **-SH**

 

**You'd like that. Wouldn't  
** **you. Would like it if I  
** **walked in, nodded  
** **politely to Molly. Walked  
** **up to you, grabbed your  
** **arm, pinning it behind  
** **your back as I force you  
** **to bend over whatever  
** **surface is in front of you.  
** **Tear your trousers off  
** **and only lower your  
** **pants enough to expose  
** **what I need. I can hear  
** **Molly's whimpered  
** **protests now...**

**-JW**

 

 **Good god John, I am so  
** **fucking hard right now. I  
** **didn't think I could get  
** **any harder but I have. If I  
** **wasn't pressed up  
** **against this table,  
** **studying these  
** **organisms under a  
** **microscope, my arousal  
** **would be very evident.** **  
** **-SH**

 

**Maybe this will help. I'm  
** **on my way to Bart's  
** **now.  Might want to start  
** **thinking of an excuse to  
** **get Molly out of the lab  
** **for...oh... 20 minutes.**

**-JW**

 

 **Only 20 minutes? Quite  
** **full of yourself today  
** **aren't you?** **  
** **-SH**

 

**Fine. Make it as long as  
** **you want. But trust me,  
** **you'll be exhausted after 20  
** **Just means I can  
** **prop you up like a doll  
** **and use you as I see fit**

**-JW**

 

 **Told her that you  
** **found out I broke the  
** **toilet and were coming  
** **here to reprimand me,  
** **and that she might want  
** **to feign business  
** **elsewhere for an hour or  
** **so.** **  
** **-SH**

 

**Good lad. -JW**

  


John left the taxi in such a rush that the driver had to shout after him, asking for the fare.

“Sorry, mate.” John rushed back to the driver's window and handed him the money. Once the driver was satisfied he hurried towards the building and bouncing with nervous energy he made his way to the lab.

As he rounded the corner and entered the long hall leading to the lab John forced himself to a walk. He purposely evened out his steps and focused on his breathing. Sherlock was a prat, and given the chance he would use any information gleamed against him.

John ignored the strain in his pants as he entered the lab. At first glance one would assume that Sherlock was simply lost in his studies. Bent over the microscope, lost to the world. But John knew better. Sherlock was anything but focused, his feet were twitching, fingers tapping anxiously against the desk and his eyes were flicking back and forth.

John withdrew the riding crop from inside his jacket where he had been hiding it from prying eyes. Holding himself tall he walked over and placed the crop on the table directly in front of Sherlock. Without waiting for Sherlock to react John grabbed his left hand and twisted it behind Sherlock’s back. He leaned in close, breath hot and heavy on Sherlock’s neck.

“Is this what you wanted?” John growled, mouth mere centimeters from Sherlock’s ear. “Wanted me to come humiliate you in a building full of people? Any one of them could walk in now, see you. See how turned on you are. I can _smell_ how turned on you are.” John chuckled darkly as Sherlock quivered beneath him and gave a small nod.

“Good... “ John purred, licking a stirp up Sherlock’s neck and releasing his hand. “Place your hands flat on the table in front of you. Don’t you _dare_ move them unless I say so. Do you understand?”

Again Sherlock nodded, this time adding a small whimper as John stepped away, his warmth against Sherlock’s back leaving in his absence and he chuckled as Sherlock visibly shivered.

“So needy, Sherlock. Look at you. Hard and wanting to the point I had to leave work early, go home and get your riding crop, just to come here and teach you a lesson.”  

“John, please.” Sherlock voice was hardly above a whisper and his fingers twitched on the cold table.

“Please _what_ , Sherlock? Hmm?” John none too gently grabbed a fistful of Sherlock’s hair and pulled down until Sherlock was staring up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open and his eyes blown wide with desire.

“Please use me like the cock slut I am? Is that what you’re trying to say?” John let go of his grip on Sherlock’s hair and watched with satisfaction as his lover went boneless and slumped against the cold metal table. John loved moments like this. Moments where Sherlock submitted so easily; fully trusting John to take care of him, and his desires. They were rare and far between, but that just made John cherish them even more.

“John…” Sherlock panted and tried to sit up, the sight made John dizzy with affection for the man.

“It’s alright, luv. I’ve got you. I’ll take good care of you.” John picked up the riding crop and looked around, double checking that they were indeed alone, then took four large backwards steps.

“Come here, Sherlock!” he barked and snapped his fingers, his wordless command to kneel, and pointed to a spot on the floor just by his feet.

Lacking his usual grace and agility, Sherlock stumbled from his chair and quite literally fell with a thud to his knees in front of John.

“Oi!” John grabbed Sherlock’s chin and forced the kneeling man to look at him. “Careful! I don’t want you hurting yourself in your carelessness!” Sherlock tried nodding through John’s hold, but stilled when John let go, satisfied that Sherlock would be more careful in the future.

John now took half a step  back and gave Sherlock a good long look, noticing for the first time since arriving the rather prominent tent in Sherlock’s trousers.

“Are you wearing any pants?”

“No…” Sherlock whispered and gave John his crooked half smile.

“Horny bastard!” John chuckled then tucked the riding crop under his right arm, freeing use of both hands. He made a show of unbuckling his belt then ever so slowly began unbuttoning his trousers. When he reached the last button Sherlocked reached out to help but John stopped him with a click of his tongue.

“Hands off, Sherlock! Dirty little cock whores like yourself don’t get to touch. Now open that hole of yours!” To emphasise his point John touched the tip of his cock against Sherlock’s closed lips and pushed. Sherlock’s lips parted readily and John groaned as his aching cock found relief inside Sherlock’s _very_ talented mouth.

“Oh, and best do a good job. Took a look at the bathroom when I was home. You actually _did_ break the toilet!” John flicked his hips towards Sherlock’s face and grinned when he made a slight choking sound as the head of his cock came into contact with the back of Sherlock’s throat.

Riding crop still tucked safely under his arm, John reached out with both hands and grabbed Sherlock’s head. He waited until he caught the slight nod of consent from Sherlock then began roughly fucking Sherlock’s mouth without abandon.

John was rough at first, to the point of pain even, but he only gave Sherlock what he knew he could handle. Sherlock submitting himself fully to John was a dangerous game they’d played before, and it came with their own silent set of little codes. If Sherlock were to tilt his head to the side and blink three times, John would know that he’d have enough and it was time to move on to something else. As for right now, Sherlock was humming happily and slurping loudly (seriously, loudly, and it didn’t help that everything echoed) away on John’s cock.

It didn’t take long for John to feel that telltale tightening in his balls that came along with a warm tingling in his gut to tell him he was close. Not wanting the fun to be over so soon, but wishing to reward Sherlock for a job well done, John forcefully held Sherlock’s head still and slowly pulled out. As he slid free of the warmth of Sherlock’s mouth, a great gob of drool fell off of the tip of his cock and fell to the floor with an audible *Shlloop*

“Can you hold it?” he asked, tip of his cock still touching Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock looked confused for a moment, then as understanding flooded in he nodded eagerly and opened his mouth wide. John pushed back in, but this time instead of moving, he simply held himself as far in as Sherlock would allow then, with a vice like grip, held Sherlock still.

“Don’t you dare swallow, or I’ll cum. Then this will all take a lot longer than an hour and Molly will probably walk in on us as I’m fucking you senseless.” Sherlock whimpered at the thought, but held still and started counting. Sherlock could hold his breath, on average, for 45 seconds. He’d been meaning to push him, to see if he could go to 50, but until now the occasion hadn’t presented himself.

 _25…_ Sherlock’s hands found their way to John’s thighs, ready to push should fight or flight take over, _30…_ His eyes were watering and lips were quivering… _40…_ He involuntarily swallowed, lungs now growing desperate for air.. _45, 46, 47…_ Sherlock’s fingers dug into John’s thighs and he now had tears streaming down his face from the effort, _48, 49, 50!_ John pulled out and fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around Sherlock, holding him up as he gasped for breath.

“Jesus, Sherlock. That was fantastic! You alright?” He tenderly cupped a hand over Sherlock’s face and inspected him for any signs of discomfort.

“Quite alright. I knew I could make it.” Sherlock grinned, pleased with his accomplishment and flexed his jaw.

“Sore?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

“It isn’t the only thing that’s going to be sore.” John grinned and stood up, offering a hand to Sherlock. “On your feet, and take off those trousers.” With a grunt he helped Sherlock to his feet then stood back and watched as he fumbled with his belt for a moment.

“You’re wasting precious time, Sherlock. Molly could be back early, and that won't stop me. Do you want to get caught? Finally have our relationship out in the open for everyone to see. Literally?”

That seemed to speed up the detective, because it was then only a matter of seconds before his belt and trousers feel unceremoniously to the floor. For the briefest space of time, Sherlock was nearly knocked over as tried to step out of his trousers, only to remember he still had his expensive shoes on. But before tumbling over he managed to kick off his shoes, and somehow his socks, and soon stook naked from the waist down in front of John.

“Shirt too. There’s no need for my little cock whore to be wearing clothes.” John flicked his wrist impatiently then began languidly stroking himself as Sherlock fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt. Once Sherlock was fully undressed John stepped over to him, took him by the wrist, and lead him back to the table.

“Bend over, hands outstretched, flat on the table. I suggest you don’t reach behind you, unless you want your fingers to get smacked with the crop. Now,” John purred, watching as Sherlock positioned himself over the table, arse up in the air thanks to his long legs. “How many swats do you think a broken toilet is worth? When you broke the stove it was 25. But this a much bigger inconvenience. We’re now out a toilet until _you_ fix it.”

“Would… 50 be enough, _sir_?” Sherlock looked behind him and bit his bottom lip as he waited for John’s reply.

“Mmm 50. That will do nicely. Ready?” John gently ran the soft leather tip of the crop over Sherlock’s pale arse and waited for permission to begin.

“I’m… I’m ready.” Sherlock took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Count for me, Sherlock. Tell me when I’ve reached 50.” With that, John brought the crop down hard, much harder than Sherlock was expecting if his sharp intake of breath was anything to go by. “Oh? Were you expecting me to start of easy?” John laughed and brought the crop down hard 4 more times in the same spot with four satisfying _smaks_ .     
  
“How many?”

“Five, sir.” Sherlock panted out, his fingers grasping for leverage over the smooth metal table.

“How long until you lose count, mm?”  John rained down 6 more hits, letting them fall at random on Sherlock’s perfect arse.

“Eleven, sir. And I won't use count.”

“Aren’t you confident. 39 left to go.”

“Yes, sir.”

5 more times the riding crop came down on Sherlock’s arse. Each and every hit made Sherlock’s arse ripple, white skin steadily growing reader with each hit. John pulled the crop away and dragged his nails across the inflicted skin, pulling a hiss out of Sherlock’s lips.

“Ele… e eleven sir! NO! Ah!” Sherlock realized his mistake too late, John’s hand replaced the crop for three more blows. “Nineteen!”

“Mess up like that again, Sherlock, and I’ll add in 5 more at the end… Oh, but look at this…” John bent down low and bit down hard on a perfectly formed handprint. “Isn’t that gorgeous?”  Without waiting for Sherlock to reply John stepped back and let the riding crop crack down 10 times in quick succession.

“Eleven more. Would you prefer them all at once, or spread out?” John leaned forward and placed a hand on Sherlock’s back and licked Sherlock’s ear, sucking in his earlobe and giving it a bite before pulling away.

“Quickly, please.” Sherlock was now squirming on the table, any self discipline he possessed was now gone and it was all he could to do remain still.

Before Sherlock had time to regret his decision John stepped back and 11 more times the riding crop crashed down, each time Sherlock whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of the way of the crop. When he was done, before Sherlock could move, John tossed the crop aside and fell to his knees between Sherlock’s legs. Up close he could see that Sherlock was hard, and leaking. God, was he leaking.

John grabbed two fistfuls of red, welted arse and pulled the cheeks apart revealing Sherlock’s greedy hole. John kneaded his fingers into Sherlock’s arse then squeezed hard on the harassed skin before letting his hungry tongue flick out of his mouth and ran it over Sherlock’s twitching ring of muscles. Upon contact Sherlock let out a grunt and slumped against the table.

“Hnnnggg….” Sherlock moaned against the table and bucked his hips back against John’s mouth.

“Greedy whore, be patient.” John chided and gave Sherlock’s bottom a light slap right over the bite mark, making Sherlock groan. Despite his admonishment John spread Sherlock open wider and applied his whole mouth to the task. Riming was never his favorite, go to, _signature_ move, but it was one of Sherlock’s favorites. John could have a whining, snarky, sulking toddler Sherlock on his hands, and all he would have to do is say “Oh fine!” before Sherlock would give him the biggest grin he could muster and within moments would have his bare arse stuck in the air for John to suck.

Swirling his tongue around the tight ring of muscle John felt himself begin to grow painfully hard. There was something erotic about pleasing Sherlock, the man who ‘didn’t feel’. While he was happy letting his readers believe that Sherlock was nothing more than a machine, John was happier yet proving to himself (and Sherlock) that he was in fact 100% human. At least in some areas. And this was one of them.

Pushing all thought from his mind, John set to work. He swirled his tongue around, and around, and around. Each time feeling every shiver and quiver Sherlock couldn’t control. When finally the muscles relaxed John let the tip, just the tip, of his tongue push inside which made Sherlock let out the most gorgeous noise John had ever heard. It was somewhere halfway between a moan and a string of cuss words. John found himself needing to hear it again so he pressed his tongue in further and moaned along when Sherlock uttered the noise again, only this time louder.

With his tongue pushed as deep inside Sherlock as he could physically muster, John decided it was time to up his game. He released Sherlock left cheek and used just his right hand to spread Sherlock open. John slipped his now free left hand between Sherlock legs and began teasing his bollocks with just the tips of his fingers, making Sherlock arch his back and cry out.

John couldn't help but chuckle darkly at his lover. Sherlock was now rocking back and forth, grinding his arse so hard against his face that John's nose was beginning to hurt. Knowing he had only a few minutes until Sherlock completely lost control, John quickened his pace. He licked, sucked, nipped, assaulting Sherlock hole with every tricked he knew. Soon the tight ring of muscle loosened and John knew it was time.

John stepped back from Sherlock and took a long hard look at the detective. Gone was the posed and refined posh man. He'd been replaced with a naked, half beaten, sexually deprived animal, and oh how John loved it. He stuck his hand in his left pocket and pulled out a small packet of lube and tore it open with his teeth. He poured a large amount into his hand and coated his fingers, stepped close to Sherlock and pushed his fingers inside, coating Sherlock entrance liberally. The rest he squeezed onto his cock.

“Can you take it all?” John asked as he rubbed the tip of his cock between Sherlock’s cheeks.

“Mmm..” Sherlock nodded and wiggled his arse in encouragement.

“Hold still then,” grunted John as he grabbed onto Sherlock’s hips. With a loud sigh he pushed in slowly, only stopping when his thighs were pressed flush against Sherlock’s arse. “Jeessuss… you’re always so _fucking_ tight. I can feel your greedy little cock hole tightening around me.”

“Ahhh…” John pulled his cock nearly all the way out then stilled. “Come on then, fuck yourself on my hard cock! I got it hard just for you, don’t let it go to waste.” Sherlock bucked back clumsily, impaling himself on John, making John grunt in pleasure and roll his head back.

“Mmm that’s it… Come on, Sherlock! Harder! I want to hear you!” John tightened his fingers on Sherlock’s hips and helped him by pulling him back hard on his cock making Sherlock arch his back and cry out as John’s cock slammed into his prostate.

“John! God, harder!” Sherlock whined and the table rocked beneath him as Sherlock used it to push himself back against John. “Shiiitt… yes… fuck, like that!” Sherlock threw his head back and let out a log, low moan.

John adjusted his angle, adding an upward motion with each thrust causing him to slam directly into Sherlock’s prostate. Sherlock uttered a  series of low grunts and his head went limp between his shoulder blades. Hi his chin hit his chest as his head bound up and down through the violent thrusting.

“God, listen to you!” John growled hoarsely and suddenly found it hard to form complete sentences and knew time was running out. It wouldn’t take either of them long to reach the tipping point. “Your moans are echoing off the walls. Anyone walking by would be able to hear you!  Shall we give them a show as well?”

With his next hard thrust John bend his body of Sherlock’s back. Fully splayed out over Sherlock, he began nipping hard at the tender skin along the nape of Sherlock’s neck. The tabled creaked and scraped across the floor beneath them.

“Going… to…” he grunted between bites and thrust, “come so hard in.. inside you. You’d like that… wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm.” Sherlock grunted and muttered something that sounded similar to ‘please’

Without speaking John snaked a hand beneath Sherlock’s body, wrapping his fingers around Sherlock’s leaking cock for the first time since arriving. He slid a finger up over Sherlock’s tip, coaxing back his foreskin and using Sherlock’s precum to help his hand slide more smoothly. With the first full tug Sherlock let out a cry and tensed around John, painting the floor below him with his come.

“Jesus… greedy whore. Came so quickly. God, I love it.” John grunted out then, with Sherlock still tensing and twitching around him, let out a cry as sparks erupted behind his eyelids. He bit down hard on the back of Sherlock’s neck and let out a cry as he began pulsing jets of hot cum deep inside the detective. They both stood there panting and quivering for what seemed ages before either of them had recovered enough to move.

John moved first. He gingerly pulled out, and looked around for damage control. His belt had somehow, _when had it come off!,_ made it halfway across the room. Sherlock’s clothes, had been kicked under the very table that was supporting the lanky man, and it was with a deep satisfied chuckle that John saw ribbons of Sherlock’s come covering his own clothes. He almost wished he could be around when he explained those stains to Molly. And try as he might, he couldn’t find the riding crop, so he decided he would leave that for Sherlock to find, and bring home. (His coat was longer anyways. Easier to hide it under.)

By the time John had retrieved his belt, and fixed his clothing, Sherlock was pushing himself up into a standing position. When he turned around he looked positively radiant. His hair was a mess, his whole body glistened with sweat, his eyes were slightly dazed, and he had the biggest grin plastered over his face. John couldn’t help himself, he took half a dozen steps, closed the space between them, took Sherlock’s head in his hands and positively snogged him.

“John… If I didn't know better.” Sherlock rumbled as John mashed their mouths together, “You weren’t so much _punishing_ me as _rewarding_ me. Now, where are my clothes. Wouldn’t do for Molly to come back and find me starkers in the morgue.”

“Behind you, under the table.” John said, and put on a smug look as Sherlock retrieved his partially soiled clothing.

“For God’s sake! Give me your jumper, John! I refused to be seen in… _this_!” Sherlock held up his dress shirt, that had taken the brunt of his release.

“No can do, Sherlock. I’ve got to go shopping, to fix that broken toilet of ours. So, give me your card.” John pushed the shirt away, and Sherlock’s hands, which had been trying to pull his jumper off as he spoke, and shook his head.

“Git.” Sherlock muttered, bending down to retrieve his trousers, presenting his still naked arse to John, who gave it a nice hard slap that echoed pleasantly throughout the room. Sherlock gave a little bark of annoyance, but his eyes twinkled when he handed his bank card over to John.

“Get us dinner while you’re out. Shagging always make me hungry.” Sherlock stepped gingerly into his trousers and gave his shirt a look of pure contempt. “And a new shirt… _Please._ I won't be here much longer.”

“Mmm, back to your bossy self I see.” John chuckled as he pocketed Sherlock’s card and kicked a shoe closer for him to reach. “Thai okay? And I’m getting you that blue shirt we saw. God you’ll look great in it.” he grinned and took a few backwards steps then looked around.

“Oh, I can’t find the riding crop… and.. Have _fun_ explaining that love bite on your neck to Molly!” With that John turned on his heels and darted out of the morgue, leaving behind a bewildered Sherlock who was now gingerly touching the back of his neck and grimacing.


End file.
